Original subtitles

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Thank you so much!

I'm sorry!

Simon?

Simon?

Simon, please!

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You know, you're going to have to make your mind up soon.

I know.

Well, how about a-the-world cruise?

We can't afford it.

Can we?

Well, we'll probably get as far as Malta.

Of course, you've got to row back.

No, no, it's not us.

How about Paris or Istanbul?

You're not still going on about the anniversary, are you?

It's 25 years, Cully.

I know, I know.

These days, you're lucky to get 25 weeks.

I vote for the Orient Express to Venice.

Something romantic.

No, and I don't think I want to go away at all.

Do you know what I want to do?

Please, tell us.

I want to retake my marriage vows.

Do they need retaking?

The first time we got married, it was a registry

office, and your father was in the middle of a case.

Ah, the Pimlico poisoner.

You didn't say, I do.

You said, I've got it.

And that was the last I saw of you until the honeymoon.

This time, I want to be the center of attention.

I want flowers and all our friends.

And I want you to be my maid of honor.

What, and give you away?

Don't you say it.

Yes, would you?

I'd love to, Mum.

I think it's a lovely idea.

You going to be around?

Oh, I was going to tell you.

I got a place on the summer workshop with Simon Fletcher.

Dad, he's very well known.

He's directed at the Royal Court and with the RSC.

He's doing a two-week summer course at Causton, and I got a place.

Well, that's settled, then.

Is it?

Let's book the church.

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I'm, uh, going over to the church.

Oh, really?

I have a police inspector coming to see me.

Oh, don't tell me, Stephen.

You've been found with your hand in the steeple fund.

Don't be ridiculous.

Oh, I was only joking, darling.

After all, stealing the small change

would be much too daring for you, wouldn't it?

So what does he want, then, this police inspector?

He wants to retake his marriage vows.

Why here?

I don't know.

Maybe he wants somewhere small and insignificant.

Well, you've got the right man for the job.

Mr. Barnaby, is it?

Or should that be Chief Inspector?

Oh, Tom, please.

This is my wife, Joyce.

It's a beautiful church.

12th century with Victorian additions.

And dry rot entirely 20th century.

I have had the pleasure of seeing you here.

We go to St. Anthony's in Causton.

When we go.

So how did you come to choose Badger's Drift?

Oh, I noticed the church when I was working here on a case of two years ago.

Oh, yes, of course.

The rainbirds.

I knew Dennis Rainbird quite well.

Yes, he was the undertaker.

Shocking affair.

Why don't we go into the church and stroll

around while we discuss the service of blessing.

I was thinking of John 2 for the reading.

Oh, the marriage at Canaan.

Yes.

Perhaps you and your wife would like to select the hymns.

We won't have to wear hard hats, will we?

Tom. No, it's not quite as bad as that.

Although it is actually quite serious.

Still, we're raising funds.

We have a wonderfully committed committee.

We're meeting tonight, as a matter of fact.

-After you. -Thank you.

♪

I wish there was an easy way to tell you this, Richard.

You've got a primary brain tumour, a malignant

astrocytoma, if you want the full professional name.

I'm not sure I do.

What are we going to do?

Well, we're not going to give in.

It'll be surgery to start with.

We'll follow it up with radiotherapy and maybe chemotherapy too.

I am sorry

I'm not married. I don't have any children.

Too many people to be sorry about.

You know, it's funny, I'm going to church tonight, steeple fund.

It's good timing, really, get God on my side.

Looks like I'm going to need him.

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Richard!

I was hoping to run into you.

Not literally.

You haven't been returning my calls.

I've got a lot on my mind.

Well, have you come to a decision yet?

Ty House.

-Ian... -Look, I really need to know.

I'm going with Erikson's in Causton.

Erikson's?

What have bloody Erikson's got that I haven't?

I'm sorry, Ian, it's a question of size.

They've got branches in London.

I'm sorry

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What's happened?

I just met Richard on the way here.

Richard bloody Bailey.

He's giving Tye House to Eriksons.

What does it matter very much?

The biggest development this village has seen in 20 years.

I can't say I'm over the moon about losing it.

Oh, Ian, I'm sorry.

You know, he's not well.

What?

Because I heard it from Caroline at school.

She got it from Mrs. Bundy, who cleans for Dr. Henson.

It's something in his head, a, um, tumor or something.

A tumor?

Well, that's what she said.

Good.

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Agnes, what is it?

It's exactly as I thought.

I've been down to the town hall.

And just look at this.

The new plans for this wretched golf course at Tye House.

They're taking down three oaks and a yew.

Well, I'm sure they're going to replant them.

Well, that's not the point.

It's just vandalism.

And for what?

-For golf. -Oh, Clare, I'm not stupid.

They're ruining our village.

First the school, then the post office, and now this.

Makes me so angry.

Why don't I talk to Richard about it tonight?

You're not seeing him.

At the vicarage, yes.

Why don't you come along?

I don't want to come along, and I certainly don't want to see him.

He's a complete hypocrite.

What do you mean?

Well, the church committee.

He's so rich he could afford to pay for a new tower himself.

And how did he get his money?

That's how.

We should be on our way, love.

Oh, Angus, didn't hear you come in.

I only just arrived.

I suppose you're also off to church.

Well, we've got to do our bit for the tower.

You, uh, you in tonight, then?

Of course I'm in.

Where else do you expect me to be?

Right.

Come along, Reggie.

We can't be late.

-Yeah. -Come along.

Well, now, let's move on to the principal issue of the evening,

which is, of course, the arrangements for next week's Grand Village Feast.

We have, I think, some 15 stalls now.

Ian on the coconuts?

Yep.

And I'm doing my cakes.

Thank you, Brenda.

Cakes.

Um...

Yes.

Yes.

Reginald?

Oh, I was doing the same as last year.

One pound for three arrows, and win five pounds if you hit the bullseye.

And I'm going to do palm reading again.

I mean, I know it's not entirely Christian, but people enjoy it.

And at 50p a time, it soon mounts the hub.

I wonder if you could read my palm.

I only learned it from a library book.

Which one's the lifeline?

I'm afraid I may not make the fate this year.

I'll have to find somebody else for the lucky dip.

My luck seems to have run out.

Richard.

Well, I'm sure you've all heard.

Thatcher's drift wouldn't be the same without his rumor machine.

A malignant astrocytoma, if you want the full professional name.

I think it's going to keep me otherwise engaged.

You should have told me, Richard.

I'm sure I wouldn't have bothered you with my own little problems.

Ian?

Forget it.

You were talking about palm reading, hm?

Yes, palmistry, archery.

Thank you very much, Reginald.

I'll be on tombola duty as usual.

Cakes, coconuts.

David Whiteley is organizing the skittles, and

young Charles here has agreed to help set everything up.

I'm doing the boncing.

Actually, you could give me a hand if you don't mind.

What?

With the coconuts.

I could do with a pair of young hands.

Sure.

Which just leaves us with the perennial question of who's going to open it.

Well, what about Angela?

Oh, I don't think so.

Why not?

Because I don't actually like the fate.

It just fills a village up with people from the Causton estate.

It's noisy and dirty.

And what does it actually achieve?

A few pounds, if we're lucky.

It's more trouble than it's worth.

Well, we can take that for a no, then.

Has everyone got tea?

Thank you.

Yes.

Then if you don't mind, I'm off to bed.

I have a headache.

Try not to wake me up, Stephen.

Uh, do you have any thoughts, Reggie?

What?

Someone to open the fate.

Oh, I can't think of anyone.

Need a TV star or something.

We don't know any TV stars.

That's what we need, a celebrity of some sort.

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-Simon? -Simon Fletcher?

-David. -David Whitely.

Remember me?

Night, Charles.

Good night, Ian.

Thanks for coming. Well, we have to help each other, don't we?

That's what living in a village is all about.

We ought to get home, Ian.

Good night, Stephen. Good night, Brenda.

Good night, Vicar.

Good night, Claire. How's your sister, by the way?

-Agnes? -Same as ever, Vicar.

Same as ever. Thank you very much for asking.

We've got to talk to you.

Stephen, I know it's a bit late, but do you think I could have a quick word?

Of course it's not too late, Richard.

Come back in.

What about, for those in peril on the sea?

What?

Oh, you know.

Oh, hear us when

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on the sea.

That's really good, Dad.

Thank you very much. Yes, but are you saying

that our marriage has been some sort of peril?

No, no, no, I just like the tune.

Well, it's not appropriate, Tom.

You're a policeman, not a sailor.

I'm going to leave you to it.

You going to bed? No, I've got to read this.

What's that?

The Duchess of Malfi?

We're going to be working on it with Simon Fletcher.

It's Jacobean, isn't it?

Very bloody.

It's got more murder in it than one of your average working weeks.

No, that's not true.

The last murder I had.

All things bright and beautiful.

That's got to be one of them Something cheerful

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Agnes?

Agnes?

What is it?

It's Agnes.

-She's not here. -What?

Where do you think she is?

She probably slipped out to the pub to make a change.

Oh, Reggie.

Well, your sister has hardly been out from the day she moved in.

Let's make the most of it.

Cocoa and bed.

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Dr. Henson?

What?

What are you talking about?

Eternal life, whose service is perfect freedom, defend us,

thy humble servants, in all the souls of our adversaries,

that we, surely trusting in thy defense, may not fear the

power of any adversaries, through the might of Jesus Christ our Lord.

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Simon!

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Woof, woof, woof.

What?

There's somebody in the house.

What is it?

Downstairs.

What time is it?

Twenty to twelve.

There's someone downstairs.

Above us?

It must be.

I'll go and catch him.

Then you can forgive me.

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I want to go to the rest of my life!

Ah, Troy.

Morning, sir.

Morning to you.

Tell me something, Troy.

What's your favorite hymn?

My what?

What's your favorite hymn?

As in church?

Oh, I don't know.

Onward, Marmite soldiers?

You mean onward, Christian soldiers?

That's how we used to sing it at school, sir.

Oh, very droll.

You going to church, then?

Indeed I am, Troy.

I'm getting re-married.

I didn't know you were getting divorced.

-Sir? -Oh, thank you.

There's nothing to see here.

I told you, that was the last time I wanted to see you.

We can't just arrive and then see you.

George.

You know, Tom, I may have to give up this game.

You know you're too old when they start getting to you.

That bad, is it?

Rather worse.

So where is it, then?

The body?

Most of it's in the hall.

The head bounced into the living room.

I suppose it could have been carried, though.

As bad as that.

After you.

He was found by his cleaning lady.

Don't even try talking to her, Tom.

She slipped and fell in the blunt.

Think it'll be a few days yet before she's ready to see you.

Yeah.

Oh, I've never seen anything more ferocious.

Single blow took the head clean off.

At least he didn't know much about it.

What's that he's got in his hand?

It looks like a pear.

It's a pear tree on the ground.

What about time of death?

Around midnight.

Is there a weapon?

Over there.

Only in Badger's Drift.

That's a master looking thing, isn't it?

What is this, a Moroccan?

No, it's Indian, though, I'd say.

Look, do you mind if we go outside and get a breath of fresh air?

You're right, this is...

bad.

So what have we got beside a name?

Richard Bailey.

But he was well off.

You'd have to be to afford a place like this, wouldn't you?

He was a property developer.

Mrs. Bundy managed to say that much.

Single, been here a while.

Sir?

We found this around the back, sir, middle of the lawn.

Oh, yes.

Well, I'd have been, um.

Yeah, but not with this.

Look, there's no blood.

Well, what was he doing there then?

Perhaps whoever it was came with the

axe and then decided the sword was sharper.

And maybe they brought along a couple of

guns and a chainsaw as well for good measure.

Excuse me, are you in charge here?

I'm Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby, yes.

Don't tell me he's committed suicide, for God's sake.

I'm sorry, what?

Well, I'm his doctor, Barbara Henson.

I've come around to see him.

It's rather important.

Mr. Bailey was your patient.

Was?

So he is dead.

We believe Mr. Bailey may have been the victim of a murder.

A murder?

Well, thank goodness for that.

I mean.

Maybe we had better talk.

Yes. That's right. He was a developer, hotels and golf courses.

He was doing a major development at Tye House, as a

matter of fact, the old manor house outside the village.

Tye House?

We know it.

It was going to be retirement homes with golf course and health center.

I don't know whether it'll go ahead now, though.

How ill was he, Dr. Henson?

How ill?

Would he have survived the operation?

I'm a doctor, not a fortune teller, Mr. Barnaby.

Your professional opinion?

Yes, probably.

And it was only yesterday that you told him about, uh?

Yes.

Well, we knew there was something wrong, of course.

But it was only yesterday we got the tests.

Don't suppose you know his movements after that, do you?

No, I've no idea.

Except he did say he was going to church.

St. Michael's.

He was on the committee.

Do you know the tower?

Why was she so nervous about that?

Oh, god knows, Troy.

Just bloody village.

Remember last time?

Nobody will ever tell you the truth.

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But that's, that's not, I don't know what to say.

You saw him last night?

Yes, yes, he was on the committee.

You must excuse me.

Such a shock.

I was praying for him only last night.

So you knew about his illness then, sir?

Well, yes.

That sort of thing is hard to keep quiet

about for very long in a village like this.

But it was only last night that he announced it in front of all of us.

It was very distressing.

How well did you know?

Not very well.

He wasn't a regular church car.

But the thing is, he was afraid, understandably so.

He needed someone to talk to, and he chose me.

Can you tell us what he said, the gist of it?

Well, he told me he was making arrangements to change his will.

He wanted the church tower to benefit if he died.

He believed he was going to die?

Yes, but not so soon, and not like this.

Can you tell me, how did it happen?

He was stabbed quite brutally with a sword.

A sword?

What kind of sword?

An Indian sword.

Oh, my lord.

My dear lord.

You'd better come into the house.

I noticed it this morning.

You know how it is when you know

something's wrong, but you can't work out what it is.

It was only this morning that I realized it was gone.

An Indian sword?

Yes, it was my father's, a souvenir of Calcutta.

Stevie, did you?

Oh, I'm sorry.

Angela, this is Chief Inspector Barnaby.

How do you do?

Oh, the one who's getting remarried.

Are you the best man?

No.

There's been a murder, Angela, Richard Bailey.

What?

And it seems my father's sword may have been used as the weapon.

Your husband was just telling us about last night, Mrs. Wentworth.

Oh, yes, um, there was an intruder in the house.

Stephen woke me up.

In itself, something of an event.

I don't suppose you know when this was?

Yes, Stephen asked me what time it was, and I looked at the clock.

It was 11.40.

Who actually knew that the sword hung in this room?

Anybody who's ever been here.

Which is everybody.

Stephen has never been very selective about the company he keeps.

It's open house, I'm afraid.

We had the committee meeting in this very room.

Who's on the committee?

Well, Angela and myself, Richard, Claire and Reg Williams.

They used to run the post office.

Then there was Ian Eastman.

And Brenda.

Yeah.

Yeah, Ian knew Richard from school days.

Then there's Charles.

Well, he does our jobs around the church, youth opportunities.

Did you lock the doors when he came back from the church?

No, I never do.

There actually isn't anything worth stealing here.

So any one of them could have come back at 11.40 and taken the sword?

I suppose so, yes.

Where could I find these people?

Well, Ian's probably at his office.

Charles, I don't know.

Claire Williams is in the cemetery.

I saw her just now.

Not dead, just visiting.

Is this what it is?

Yes.

Jennifer Bryce.

Sweet girl.

Used to work for me at the post office more than 30 years ago.

She died young?

Yes.

That was her son, Felix.

He died when he was just 10.

After that, she just faded away.

I'm so sorry.

How can I help you?

I'm Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby.

This is Sergeant Troy.

Causton CID.

Oh, yes.

I don't suppose you've heard.

I don't know why, it just seems so, so wrong.

I mean, to kill him when everybody knew how ill he was.

Would you say he had any enemies, Mrs. Williams?

No, he was very well liked.

There were those who opposed to what he was doing.

Who were they?

Oh, there were lots of them.

There was a petition organized about Tye

House, and that had almost 200 signatures.

There were quite strong feelings.

Do you know who organized this petition?

My sister, Agnes.

Your sister?

Agnes knew Richard all his life.

She taught him.

That was when the village had its own primary school.

Oh, she was a teacher.

Headmistress, yes.

She was very fond of Richard.

It's just that she didn't like to see the village being knocked about.

I mean, none of us do.

What was being planned at Tye House?

Retirement homes, golf courses, that sort of thing.

I really don't know that much about it.

You'd have to talk to Ian.

Ian Eastman?

Yes, he and Richard were at school together.

Well, I imagine that he's the one marketing it.

Look, everybody liked Richard, we all did, it's

just that some people disagreed with what he was doing.

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Reggie?

Oh, Agnes, have you heard?

-What? -About the murder.

Richard Bailey, it seems someone attacked him last night with a sword.

Really?

What is it, then?

Have you heard?

Richard Bailey's been murdered.

I was just telling Agnes.

Well, it's not all bad news, is it?

It means Tye House won't go ahead.

It's still a terrible thing to happen.

It was last night, you know.

I don't suppose you saw anything, did you, dear?

No.

Why do you say that?

Well, you were out walking.

No, I wasn't.

I went to bed before you, and I went straight to sleep.

That's better

Tye House?

I have nothing to do with it.

Richard had decided it was too big for me.

He'd gone to Erickson's in Causton.

They've got offices in London.

Are you angry about that?

Not particularly.

Olive, can you bring me the quarterly sales file?

Certainly, Mr. Eastman.

If you ask me, it would never have happened anyway.

Why is that, sir?

Well, local pressure for a start.

Agnes Sampson?

She was up in arms about a handful of

trees, organizing a petition, all the rest of it.

Mind you, she was always making trouble.

It was bad enough when he developed the old school.

That was her school, yeah?

Batter's Drift Primary.

Yes, it's two luxury flats now.

Sold by me, incidentally.

The sales file?

There you are, you see?

The last three months.

I'm busy enough without Richard.

I'm doing very well for myself.

I didn't need Tye House.

So who else was against it?

What?

You suggested there were other reasons why the development wouldn't happen.

Well, yes, the main reason was David Whiteley.

He owns a small piece of land.

It's part of the Tye estate.

It's to do with access.

Richard couldn't move without it, and David knew he had him over a barrel.

He was asking a fortune.

Good luck to him, I say.

David Whiteley, I think I know that name.

I don't suppose you went out at all last night, sir?

Between 10 o'clock and midnight?

No, I was at the committee meeting until about 9.

Then I went straight home with Brenda, my wife.

David Whiteley.

The estate manager, Ty Howes.

-Small world? -Big world, Troy.

Small county.

Olive, I'm just going to slip out for a little while.

Yes, Mr Eastman.

Shall I say where you are, if anyone rings?

No, just tell them I'll be back in ten minutes.

Very well, Mr Eastman.

Ian what are you doing home?

I wanted to talk to you.

what's that?

it's from the Halifax.

it's our statement.

why did you open it?

I always open the statements.

There's hardly anything left in it, Ian.

All these withdrawals, 100 pounds, 100, 200 pounds.

Why did you open it?

It's addressed to both of us.

It's business expenses.

You've never used our personal account for business before.

It's not important.

Have you heard about Richard?

What?

He's been killed.

What?

Murdered.

And listen, I've already spoken to the

police, but I dare say they'll be coming around here.

And I want you to be bloody careful what you say.

Well, well, well.

Detective Inspector Barnaby and Sergeant, what was it?

Joy?

Troy.

Yes, I knew Richard Bailey.

And before you ask, no, I couldn't stand him.

And no, I wasn't in Badger's Drift last night.

And no, I didn't kill him, OK?

Who told you he was dead then?

Everybody.

If we could possibly have a minute of your time, Mr. Whitely?

Could we start by telling us why you didn't like him?

I was estate manager here, you remember?

Oh, yes.

Well, everything was going very well until one day you two rolled along.

After your little investigation, Henry Trace sold up and left.

You did me out of a job.

Oh, I'm sorry.

Oh, don't be.

See, a few months before he left, Henry saw me

at the lodge and a few acres at a knockdown price.

Mainly because knocking it down was about all it was worth.

I've been living here in the caravan

while I've been trying to make it habitable.

Richard Bailey was trying to buy you out.

Yeah.

And I suddenly found I could name my own price.

Except he wouldn't pay.

You got it in one, Inspector.

Richard always was a pompous bastard, even at school.

Said I was blackmailing him, dug his heels in.

And now that he's gone?

Well, I'm rather hoping that whoever takes over the

development is going to be more willing to listen to reason.

Oh, dear, I've just given myself a

rather good motive for killing him, haven't I?

Can you tell us where you were at about midnight last night?

In bed.

I was in the village earlier drinking.

I left the pub about 9.

I don't suppose anybody saw you.

You need a name for your little black book.

There was someone, actually.

Friend of Richard's, haven't seen him for about 30 years.

Hey, maybe it wasn't a coincidence.

What's his name?

Simon Fletcher.

-E-R.

Yet methinks, the manner of your death should much afflict you.

Discord should terrify you.

Not a whit.

What would it pleasure me to have my throat cut with diamonds,

or to be smothered with cassia, or to be shot to death with pearls?

I know death hath ten thousand several doors, for men to take their exits.

Thank you, Cully.

That was very good.

The Jacobean death, the throat cut with diamonds.

We're talking about death as spectacle, death as

entertainment, but also as the gateway to something more terrible.

Cover her face, mine eyes dazzle, as Ferdinand will say, as

the death of the Duchess triggers retribution and more murder.

Well, I guess that's heavy enough for one session.

I'll see you tomorrow at 9.30.

You did that very well.

Thank you.

Have you done much theatre?

A couple of tours.

I did Ophelia, but it was modern dress and they cut all the best bits.

I'd like to have seen it.

Do you fancy a drink?

I'd like that.

That's it, that's it.

I liked your dew.

I'm sorry?

The dew of Malta.

Anthony Sher, I saw it at the Barbican.

Thank you.

So why did you come down here, then?

You mean out of London?

I suppose it's a busman's holiday.

Not exactly.

I used to live here in Badger's Drift.

Do you know it? Yeah. I was born there.

I left when I was 16, and I've never been back.

I always do a summer course, and when they told me it was down here, well.

I didn't want to come.

But then I thought, sometimes you have to go back.

Sometimes it can help.

Anyway, I've got nothing else fixed for the rest of the summer until August.

So here I am.

Have you heard about the murder, then?

No.

Well, it happened last night, a

property developer or something, Richard Bailey.

Come on, come on, ladies!

My dad's in charge of the case.

He's a policeman, a DCI.

I'm sorry.

Your father's a what?

A chief inspector.

You're right.

Look, I'm sorry I have to go.

I don't actually feel very well.

I'll see you.

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It's not my fault, you know.

I didn't kill him.

Joyce.

Mom, I just don't believe it, Tom.

Oh, she's speaking to me.

-Hurrah. -It just isn't fair.

The day you proposed to me, that woman got poisoned.

And now, when all I want is to retake my vows.

What am I meant to do?

-Colleague. -Mum has got a point.

I know it's not your fault, but if I was married to a postman or a dentist.

Oh, you couldn't be married to a dentist, don't be silly.

Will you have to cancel the service?

No, it can still go ahead.

What if it was the vicar who killed him?

You did say it was his sword.

Oh, I don't think Stephen Wentworth did it.

For a start, he didn't have a shadow of a motive.

In fact, quite the opposite.

Meaning? Well, if Richard Bailey had lived for another few

hours, he might have changed his will and left a fortune to the church.

Do you know who did kill him?

Well, truth, I haven't the faintest idea.

No, look, it can all go ahead as planned.

In fact, I'm going back myself to St. Michael's later on this morning.

Oh, don't tell me.

They're burying him.

No, he's being cremated.

But there is a memorial service.

-Do you want to come? -No, thank you.

Oh, I'm going to be late.

You off to the playhouse?

Yeah, we're doing the mad scenes from the Duchess of Melby.

A director friend of yours.

What's his name?

Simon Fletcher.

I'll give you a lift.

How's it going, then, this, uh, Duchess of Malfi?

It's good.

Simon's really into Jacobin theater.

He makes it seem very real.

What sort of person would you say he is, then?

Simon Fletcher?

Why do you want to know?

Just interested.

No, you're not.

♪

All right.

Simon Fletcher was seen in Badger's Drift

yesterday, just before Richard Bailey was killed.

So what, Dad?

He used to live there.

How do you know?

He told me. But he hasn't been back there for years.

Why not?

I don't know.

Look, do you mind if I come inside and meet him?

Yes.

It won't embarrass you.

Dad, he's a big director.

He could be really helpful to me.

I may still have to investigate him.

No.

Morning, Cully.

Hi, Simon.

This is Simon Fletcher.

How do you do?

I'm Tom Barnaby.

Hi.

You enjoying it down here?

Yeah.

It's good to get out of London.

Well, I'll see you this evening.

Nice to have met you, Mr. Fletcher.

Sure.

He doesn't look like a policeman.

Shall we go on in?

I didn't think you were going to make it.

I went into Causton.

I saw Simon Fletcher.

And?

Nothing.

He didn't speak.

♪

♪

♪

♪

♪

♪

♪

♪

Please be seated.

It's good to see such a large turnout

to commemorate the life of Richard Bailey.

He was taken from us in a way that passes all understanding.

But I know and believe that his killer will be brought to justice.

Richard was not a well man, but on the night of

his death he told me he was not afraid of dying.

There is some comfort in that.

Even so, we shall all miss him as a good neighbour and a good friend.

Richard was a generous man, both with his material wealth and with his time.

Helping to organise the fete, for instance.

Of course, there were those who felt uncomfortable about his work.

His many developments in and around the village.

But he loved Badger's Drift.

He loved the village.

And that's why this week's fete will continue, dedicated to his name.

What were the things that mattered most to Richard?

First and foremost, I would have said his friends.

His friends, old and new, who stayed close to him throughout his life.

The gate he never oiled, because he liked to know when visitors were coming.

His beautiful house, and the way his front door was always open to everyone.

It's you.

Please come in.

The pear tree in his garden that he cherished and

the single pear he gave me every harvest festival.

♪

Richard lived his whole life here in Badger's Drift.

He was a boy here, and he has died here.

He has paid the price, as we must all pay.

Let us think of him as we sing our final hymn.

♪

♪

♪

Thank you so much for coming.

Very kind. Thank you very much.

Nice to see you.

Thanks.

Well, that's that, then.

Yes.

Why do I feel there was so much more to it, huh?

Afternoon, Detective Inspector.

Sergeant Boy.

You're very cheerful, Mr. Whitely.

I am. I heard from Crossbeam Holdings this morning.

Richard's development company.

They've agreed to my price for the lodge.

Oh, you'll be selling then?

You bet.

Have my fill of Badger's bloody drift.

To hell with it.

Agnes?

Good afternoon, Mr. Barnaby.

Barnaby, you're the policeman investigating this murder?

Yes, sir. You should have a word with her.

Agnes Sampson, my wife's sister, she couldn't stand the fellow.

Ever since he bought the old schoolhouse and then sold it.

I'm sure she wasn't alone, sir.

You ask her where she was the time he was killed, you ask her that.

His-in-law?

That must be Reginald Williams.

He used to run the post office.

Charming.

Mr. Barnaby?

Dr. Henson?

Could I have a word with you?

Not here, somewhere private.

You making tea?

I thought that went quite well.

Well, it was the high point of the year.

Angela.

A memorial service with a half-full church.

It's just a shame you didn't get the funeral.

You like funerals, don't you?

Please.

I'm fed up, Stephen, fed up, fed up, fed up.

Is it always going to be like this?

I'm happy as a parish priest.

But when I married you, I thought you were going to be

so much more, an archdeacon at least, surely a bishop.

I did everything you asked.

I joined every committee you put me up for.

The diocesan senate, the bishop's council.

But the bishop never even looked at you.

I don't think he liked you.

Perhaps it's you he doesn't like.

May God forgive you, Angela, for what you've done to me all these years.

I'm happy as a parish priest.

I could have been happy.

I could have been.

But you put a stop to that.

♪

♪

Richard Bailey wasn't dying.

What?

The evening he was killed, I received a phone call from Causton Hospital.

-Call. -Call.

Dr. Henson?

What?

What are you talking about?

It turned out there'd been a mistake with the files.

You can't be serious.

You mean he didn't have a brain tumor after all?

Yes, he did, but nonmalignant, smaller.

It was a complete cock up.

Did you phone him?

I tried to, but the phone was off the hook.

So in the end, I decided to go round.

What time was that?

About 5 to 12.

It was only when I got there I realized I was making a bloody fool of myself.

I just couldn't go barging in there at midnight.

In the end, I decided to go home.

But I was back around there first thing the following morning.

That's why you were so worried he'd committed suicide.

It would have been my fault, for heaven's sake.

I was worried sick.

While you were waiting outside Richard Bailey's

house, did you by any chance see anyone approach?

As a matter of fact, I did.

It's just as I was driving off

It was Ian Eastman, you know, the estate agent.

I saw him by the green.

He was heading towards the house.

I'm sure of it.

Is that what you think this is all about?

The development at Ty House?

Looks like it.

But I still don't see the sense of it.

Killing Richard Bailey hasn't stopped the development going ahead.

Just the opposite.

Dave Whiteley's got the price he wants now.

So the thing can be built.

Maybe David Whiteley killed him for just that reason.

Tiny flaw in that argument, Troy.

Really?

Dr. Henson may have got it wrong, but David Whiteley didn't know that.

Nobody did.

As far as the village was concerned, Richard

Bailey was about to have a life-threatening operation.

So why kill a man who's already dead?

Oh, good afternoon, Olive.

Miss Beauvoisin.

We're looking for Ian Eastman, please.

What are you doing here?

The last time we spoke to you, sir, you told us

you didn't go out the night Richard Bailey was killed.

Yes.

But we have a witness statement that contradicts that.

You were seen by the Green at 5 to 12.

Well, I wasn't.

Your witness must be wrong.

Are you sure about that, sir?

Of course I'm sure.

I didn't leave the house.

Where would I have been going in the middle of the night?

We were hoping that you'd tell us that, sir.

I have told you.

It wasn't me.

I wasn't going anywhere.

If you ask me, the two of them are at it.

Eastman and Miss Beauvoisin.

At it?

In a relationship.

It's possible.

I was thinking, sir.

Oh, oh, yes? About what you were saying earlier.

Why kill a man who's already dying?

Answer, to stop him changing his will.

The vicar's already told us Richard Bailey had

decided to change his will to benefit the steeple fund.

Maybe that's why he was killed.

That, too, is possible.

I wonder if he had a solicitor.

Ah.

It is a pleasure to see you again, Chief Inspector,

Sergeant, even though, as I recall, the last time we met

was when one of my clients had the grave misfortune to be, um, Murdered.

Precisely.

And now Mr. Bailey, too.

How can I help you?

We've been led to believe that Mr. Bailey was

considering changing his will to benefit his local church.

That may be the case.

He had, however, failed to communicate that to me.

It had been some months, indeed, since I had last spoken to him.

Can you tell us who actually benefits under the terms of the will?

Mr. Bailey was a wealthy man with no dependents.

The bulk of his money he left to Mrs. Margaret Green.

She lives in Perth.

Scotland?

Australia.

There are some smaller bequests of various charities.

He did, in fact, leave 500 pounds to the Church of St. Michael.

That won't get him very far.

No.

You say he was planning to change his will.

Perhaps he was going to give them more.

But I suppose we shall never know.

Well, that was a waste of time.

Oh, I don't know.

Why did Richard Bailey lie?

How?

According to Stephen Wentworth, Richard Bailey had

already begun to make arrangements to change his will.

He was quite clear about that.

He wasn't just thinking about it.

He'd already begun.

Or maybe he called another solicitor.

Or maybe you're right, Troy.

Well, that'll make a change.

Maybe this has all to do with Tye House.

This all seems to connect him.

Richard Bailey, Agnes Sampson, Ian Eastman.

And David Whiteley.

And David Whiteley.

The one man who's benefited from Richard's death.

♪

♪

I can't,

I can't.

No!

FOR CHRIST'S SAKE, HELP!

Help!

Help me!

I don't want this to end.

God in heaven!

♪

♪

♪

♪

We've got 40 people so far.

What?

Coming to the service.

Peter and Anne are flying in from New York.

Choice.

You said it can all go ahead as planned.

Those were your very words.

Yeah, I know I did.

I've got a list of the hymns here.

All Things Bright and Beautiful, There Is a

Green Hill, and Onward, Christian Soldiers.

Onward, Christian Soldiers.

That's Troy's favorite.

I've invited him, too.

Oh, you haven't, have you? Yes, I have.

Oh. Are you planning to feed them all afterwards, all this congregation?

No, I'm talking to caterers.

It's cheaper than the Orient Express would have been.

I suppose you're right.

I'll see you later.

Oh, it's the badgers' drift fate.

Yes, well, we mustn't disappoint Stephen.

♪

♪

That's looking really good, Charles.

Thank you.

I see you've drafted in some help, Ian.

What?

-Oh, yeah. --ha-ha!

You two girls want a round of quid?

Yeah.

Lovely spread, Brenda.

Thanks.

Good night, Clare.

Thank you.

All set, Reggie?

Yes, Finka.

Looks as if we're going to have the weather for it.

Absolutely.

Did you manage to find someone to open the faith?

A celebrity?

No, not yet.

But I may have had an idea.

I'll be back forthwith.

Forthwith?

♪

Good morning.

-Hello. -How are you?

I'm fine.

Look, I wanted to apologize about the other day.

There's no need.

No, no. I should have explained.

The thing is, I've been under quite a lot of stress recently.

And when you mentioned Richard.

Oh, did you know him?

Yes, we were very close.

Actually, he's part of the reason I'm here.

I'm sorry.

If he was a friend.

No, your father's investigating his murder.

How's the case coming along?

He hasn't really said.

I don't suppose he's mentioned the school.

The school?

Badger's Drift Primary School.

Has he mentioned it?

Simon!

Simon Fletcher.

I recognize you, even though it's, what, 30 years?

Hello, Stephen.

I still remember you in the choir.

Lovely voice.

But I heard you in Causton.

Well, I hope you'll forgive the opportunism.

I'm sorry?

Well, I need to find someone to open the village fete this afternoon.

I was gearing up to do it myself, but with a real

live celebrity in town, I had to come and find you.

Oh, I don't know.

You're not working this afternoon?

No, it's a half day, but.

I'd be so grateful.

I'm going to be there.

Are you?

I'm meeting my dad.

If you want to speak to him, then.

All you have to do is simply say a few words and look at a few stalls.

It's for a very good cause, saving the church tower.

What time?

2 o'clock sharp.

All right, then.

Excellent, excellent.

I shan't have labored in vain.

All those hills.

A real live celebrity, eh?

You'd better be there to hold my hand.

What's up?

Hi, Troy. What's happening?

There's been another death.

♪

There you go, that's nice.

Tom.

You've got a right one here, Tom.

What the hell's going on?

First a decapitation, now this.

Doesn't bear thinking about.

You sure that's David Whiteley?

He's unrecognizable, but I'll pull the dental records and that'll tell.

Do you want to look at the body, what's left of it?

Try it.

Thank you.

Yes, sir.

Oh my god.

When's it gonna end?

It's horrible.

I mean, he would have burned alive in there.

And it wouldn't have been quick.

Yes, thank you, Troy.

No need to go into details.

Do you realize we could have prevented this?

Eh?

Remember the last time we saw Whiteley?

It was outside the church.

Yes.

You're very cheerful, Mr. Whiteley.

I am.

I heard from Crossbeam Holdings this morning, Richard's development company.

They've agreed to my price for the lodge.

Oh, you'll be selling that?

Eat that.

I've had my fill of badgers' bloody drift.

To hell with them.

David Whiteley tells us the development can go ahead.

Then the next thing that happens.

Exactly.

But who else was there?

Who else overheard?

-Yes? -Miss Sampson, Agnes Sampson.

Are you the police?

Good afternoon. I'm Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby.

Sergeant Troy.

Come in.

I've been expecting you.

Of course I've seen changes.

One can't stand in the way of progress.

Of course not.

But it's the greed I can't stand.

Old building being bashed down and converted

for weekenders who'll pay double the market value.

And that just pushes the prices up and forces the real villagers out.

Is that why you decided to teach Richard Bailey a lesson?

Who told you that?

Ian Eastman, estate agent, said that you were upset about some trees.

Three oaks and a yew.

Beautiful plants, ancient, that down they have to

come so that the weekenders can play their wretched golf.

On the night he was killed, you went round to Richard Bailey's house.

Yes.

To cut down his pear tree.

An eye for an eye, a tree for a tree.

I knew how much it meant to him, his precious pear.

And I thought, how about putting the boot on the other foot for a change?

See how he feels.

Oh, why, didn't you?

What happened to stop you?

What did you see?

I didn't see anything.

I knew there was an axe in the shed.

I'd seen it there before.

I suppose it was a little before midnight.

I took the axe and went back across the garden.

I'd only got about halfway across when I heard the garden gate open and shut.

It was actually midnight on the dot, and he had a visitor.

I heard them.

Oh, it's you.

Please come in.

I don't know who it was, but the interruption brought me to my senses.

I got rid of the axe and went home.

It was a stupid idea anyway.

I don't know what possessed me.

And you're sure there's nothing more you

can tell us about this person you heard?

Was it a man or a woman?

I didn't see them.

I still can't believe it was the person who killed him.

He greeted them like an old friend.

It gives me great pleasure to welcome everyone to Badger's Drift Summer Fest.

You know it's in a good cause, so I hope

you'll spend lots of money and have a great time.

How did you know about the pear tree?

Guesswork, really.

Axe on the lawn, the old lady protesting about the trees.

Do you think she was telling the truth?

I don't think she killed Richard and Bailey.

Don't think she killed either of them.

Batty she may be, but not a psychotic.

Maybe we should find out who else was protesting.

Yeah, you know, I'm wondering if this has anything at all to do with Tye House.

Maybe we've been barking up completely the wrong tree.

Oh, it's 2.15.

Said I'd meet Joyce at the Fade.

You coming? Yeah, I thought I'd win myself a coconut.

Just one, please.

Another one, please, darling.

Yeah.

Oh. I think that would be pretty sexy, don't you?

It's quite lovely.

And what sort of mixture is this?

I don't know.

-Joe? -Hello. -What does she look like?

Oh. Oh, a little horror.

Oh.

-Excuse me. -I just sponged this.

-Oh, dear. -I'm really sorry.

I don't know what I'm talking about.

Win £5, three hours for the pound.

Win £5, three hours for the pound.

Ah!

Twins I found, three arrows were found.

Very close.

Twins.

-One. -Two. -Three.

Five.

I can see good fortune.

I hope you've done the lottery this week.

-Yes. -Well done, Emily.

Thank you.

-Bravo. -There you are.

You can keep it on your desk.

You wouldn't be trying to damage my career, would you?

No, but I'll more than damage it if you're not

at St. Michael's at 11 o 'clock tomorrow morning.

-What? -Just spoke to Stephen.

We're going to run through the service.

Oh, fine.

You seen Cully?

Do you fancy a drink, then?

I could get us some tea.

Hmm.

Milk, no sugar, please.

I'll be right back, then.

It's got to be!

This time, come on!

Yeah, these things nailed on

You missed the grand opening.

-Oh, you? -It was Cully's director.

They came here together.

Simon Fletcher.

Reggie.

Uh, have you seen Stephen?

No, what is it?

I'm missing one of my bows.

I've only just noticed it, only just now.

You sure?

Someone's only gone and nicked it.

Oh, no.

♪

Get out of this.

-Simon! -Simon!

You may now be the next Magistrate of Green.

Looks like he was fired from behind the palm reading tent.

In full view of everyone, too.

Must have been someone with nerves of steel.

Or someone who didn't care if he was caught or not.

You all right, Cully?

It most certainly is.

Why, Dad?

Why would anyone want to?

I was rather hoping you'd tell me that.

How well did you know him?

I didn't really know him at all.

This is all my fault, isn't it?

I stopped you speaking to him when you wanted to.

Wouldn't have made any difference.

He was asking about you this morning.

About me?

He wanted to know how the case was coming along.

He asked if you'd mentioned the school.

The school?

Badger's Drift Primary School.

He didn't say why.

What did I tell you, Troy?

Forget Tye House.

It's got nothing to do with it.

But why is this school so important?

I do not know, but that's all we keep hearing.

Time after time after time.

Agnes knew Richard all his life.

She taught him.

That was when the village still had its own primaries.

Richard always was a pompous bastard, even at school.

Ian knew Richard from school days.

Richard Bailey, Ian Eastman, and Dave

Whiteley all went to the same school together.

Didn't Simon Fletcher come from the village?

Yeah, he did. And he was asking after the school.

He must have gone there too.

So all three deaths, Bailey, Whiteley.

That's what connects them, the school.

Well fired, Central Heating.

It is easy.

Very good. Miss Beauvoisin. Miss Beauvoisin.

I'll be with you in a moment.

No, you won't, Miss Beauvoisin.

You'll be with me now. I'm looking for Ian Eastman.

Where is he?

I can't say.

Now, don't play games with me.

There have been three murders in Badger's Drift.

Unless I find him soon, there could be a fourth.

This must be where he was going the night Bailey was killed.

I am not a homosexual.

In fact, it disgusts me, this need I have.

I was paying him, you understand?

It's a business arrangement. There's nothing wrong with that.

And how old is he, sir?

19.

I'm not interested at all in your private life, Mr. Eastman.

I'm here because I want you to tell me about Badger's Drift Primary School.

What?

I want to know about Richard Bailey,

David Whiteley, Simon Fletcher, and yourself.

I don't understand.

David Whiteley has been killed.

So has Simon Fletcher.

Can I have a glass of water?

Richard, Simon, David and me.

We called ourselves the Sign of Four, you know, like in Sherlock Holmes.

We were a secret society, had our own passwords, that sort of thing.

It was just a game.

But it all went wrong.

Another younger boy wanted to join us.

He was a friend of David's, so we agreed.

But we said he had to pass through an

initiation ceremony, you know, to prove he was worthy.

We were just 11 years old, and he was 10.

You have to remember that.

We were just children.

Well, first of all, we made him smash a

few windows in Mrs. Tracey's greenhouse.

Not that there were many left to smash.

Then there were games, different games, I can't remember.

They were all leading up to the main initiation,

the test of endurance.

It was Simon's idea.

It did have a sense of the dramatic.

A trial by gallows, that's what he called it.

We never meant to hurt him.

We never meant.

He had to stand there for five minutes with a rope around his neck, on his own.

If he took the rope off, if he touched it, he couldn't join us.

We didn't go far.

David had some cigarettes, and we smoked them about a minute away.

And we never thought the road would hold.

♪

We never told anyone.

They all thought he killed himself.

They thought it was suicide.

And you lived with it all this time?

what else could we do?

we were children.

we were terrified.

and years later it's too late.

what good would it have done telling anyone?

No one knew who his father was.

Nine months later, his mother died.

What was he called?

The boy?

His name was Felix Bryce.

♪

Your father's late.

Mom, it's only just gone 11, you know.

He'll be here.

So what are you saying, then?

That this is revenge?

Yes, for a murder which happened 30 years ago.

Richard Bailey, David Whiteley, Simon Fletcher.

And Ian Eastman would have been next if he

hadn't have, um, let a man young enough to be his son.

There were damaged goods, all four of them.

OK, so it was revenge.

But who?

Come with me.

Uh, Jennifer Bryce worked in the post office, I told you.

What sort of a girl was she, Mrs. Williams?

Oh, she was a very pretty one.

No sense in her head, though.

I'm afraid that's true.

She got herself pregnant when she was just 17.

It was quite a scandal.

Yes, but in a place like Badger's Drift.

Reginald and I looked after her, of

course, but she never told us who the father was.

Yes.

Was she a religious woman, God fearing?

Oh, quite the opposite.

She was a modern girl, independent.

She gave birth to a boy.

Felix, a lovely child.

Took after his mother in looks.

Agnes taught him.

He was very bright.

He was taking his 11 plus a year early.

And I didn't push him.

Some people blame me, you know, for what happened.

Oh, I don't think that's true, dear.

He killed himself, Chief Inspector, in the wood.

It was a terrible thing.

And poor Jennifer, from the day they found him

hanging from that tree, she just, well, she never recovered.

She just slipped away.

It's late for the church.

Are you going?

Yes, we both are. On the way, we'll drop into the vicarage.

I want a word with Angela Wentworth.

The vicar's wife?

Yes, I'm interested to know what sort of alarm clock she's got.

I'm afraid we're going to have to start, Mrs Barnaby.

I have a confirmation class at midday.

Yes.

All right. Now, the service of blessing.

It will start, of course, with you and your husband coming down the aisle.

So the first question is, are we going to have some Mendelssohn?

Well, I don't know.

Tome!

I'm afraid the service is off.

Oh, no.

I'm sorry.

I don't understand.

You don't have to pretend anymore.

I know.

What?

Troy.

Stephen Wentworth, we're arresting you for the

murders of Richard Bailey, David Whitely, and Simon Fletcher.

You don't have to say anything, but it may harm your defense if you do

not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court.

Anything you do say may be given in evidence.

It was him.

Yes.

Why, Dad?

Why Simon?

For something that happened 30 years ago, Cully.

They killed my son?

And nobody knew.

Nobody knew anything about it until Richard

Bailey was wrongly diagnosed with a brain tumor

and felt a need to do what any dying man would do, confess.

Stephen, I know it's a bit late, but do you think I could have a quick word?

Of course it's not too late, Richard.

Come back in.

40 years ago, you had an affair with Jennifer Brice.

She gave birth to a child, a little boy.

And she called him Felix, which means happiness.

And Stephen, after you.

But neither of you ever told anyone about it.

I couldn't.

Jennifer understood that.

The parish would never have accepted it.

And Angela had such plans for me.

I was going to be a bishop.

But when he was 10 years old, Felix died.

You thought it was suicide.

Yes.

Can you imagine what it was like to live with that all these years?

To believe that my son.

It killed Jennifer Brice.

It broke her heart.

Broke it.

And I had to bury her.

And nobody knew.

And then, out of the blue, Richard Bailey told

you what had really happened all those years ago.

Of course, he didn't know who he was talking to.

The father of the boy he killed.

The man whose life he'd ruined.

He just wanted to get it off his chest.

You know, you almost gave it away at that memorial service.

He was a boy here.

And he has died here.

He has paid the price, as we must all pay.

Paid the price.

I thought that was an odd choice of words.

But of course, that was exactly what he'd done.

In your eyes, anyway.

And you were lying to us, weren't you?

He never changed his will.

It wouldn't have mattered if he had.

I would have killed him anyway.

I didn't want his money.

But making me think he was going to change his will, that threw me.

Even when his solicitor told me his client wasn't planning any

changes at all, that you'd obviously lied, I still believed you.

Yes, I was very surprised.

Deception came very easily to me.

May not fear the power of our adversaries,

through the might of Jesus Christ our Lord.

Amen.

And that same night, you decide to take your revenge.

There's no planning, no calculation.

He had to die by your hand for his operation.

♪

♪

You're carrying the sword.

You cross the village.

You don't care if you're seen.

and you arrive at Richard Bailey's house at midnight exactly.

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It's you.

Please come in.

It was only afterwards that you realized

you'd have to give yourself some sort of alibi.

You'd used your own sword, the first weapon you could find.

That is when you decided to involve your wife.

Angela had taken a pill, so you knew she'd be sound asleep.

You put the alarm clock back 35 minutes, and then you woke her up.

There's someone in the house.

What is it?

Downstairs, what time is it?

Your wife has told us that you asked her what time it was.

And I wondered about that.

If the clock was visible, why ask her what the time was?

Well, it's finished at 12.

Unless it was important that she should remember it.

Of course, you're absolutely right.

And once you got rid of Richard Bailey, no stopping you, was there?

All the rest had to be punished, didn't they?

Oh, yes.

I don't understand.

God in heaven!

The methods he used should have told me something.

The flames.

The sword.

The arrow.

It was all somehow so biblical, so Old Testament, a shooting at the fate.

I said at the time it was an act of bravado.

You see yourself as the hammer of God?

Didn't care if you were caught.

No, I didn't care if I was caught.

But it had nothing to do with God.

Those men took away the only good things in my life.

I killed them because I wanted to.

I'm glad I did.

Those men were children when your son was killed.

It was an accident.

I've spent 40 years in this church.

Can you just give me one minute more, in prayer?

Yes, of course.

That's what you're like in action.

I don't believe it, Tom.

I'm sorry.

-Sir? -Get after him, Troy.

Angela!

Angela!

Steven?

What are you doing up there?

Sir, don't do it!

Of course I'm going to do it.

I should have done it years ago.

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Stay there, stay where you are.

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Are you sure you've got everything?

Passports, tickets, traveler's checks?

-And me? -Yes.

Come on, man.

It's going to be great.

Rolls Royce, the Orient Express, a Venice.

It's so romantic.

With our luck, the driver will probably be killed.

Murder on the Orient Express, been done.

Send us a postcard.

Bye-bye.

-Mom? -Dad?

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